One More Day
by Shadewolf7
Summary: Just after the postcredits scene in AWE, tragedy strikes. Various reflections during a short conversation between father and son many years later. Angsty. Very not planned. Spoiler.


**One More Day**

_Again, nothing is mine. That includes the song that's been playing in my head all day for some reason…but I think it has to do with the fact that I went to see _At World's End_ with my father last night. And I don't even know the dratted thing--I had to look up the lyrics. Two lines repeating inside one's head--especially when the grand total number of words contained in those two lines is six--is amazingly irritating._

_xxxx_

_Last night I had a crazy dream  
A wish was granted just for me  
I didn't ask for money  
Or a mansion in Malibu  
I simply asked for one more day with you_

_xxxx_

He leaned against the bow railing, looking like a young man in perhaps his early twenties. The vessel he was on was small, by modern standards, and built like something out of the seventeenth century, though it didn't look overly worn.

Longish hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, secured with a scrap of cloth instead of an elastic band, the style of clothing as outdated as the ship he stood upon.

His eyes were weary as they gazed over glittering waters, a sad smile crossing his lips and hinting that the age he looked was a lie.

Another man approached from behind and touched the apparent younger's shoulder.

Almost reluctantly, the younger man straitened and turned his head, the change in posture revealing an angry-looking scar that ran jaggedly down his chest, the size and placement of the wound suggesting that he shouldn't have survived whatever had caused it.

"You should go ashore, Captain," the older man prodded gently. "There won't come another chance for you 'till another decade's past."

The one named as Captain finally turned to face the elder fully, "There is nothing for me there, without her."

"You miss her." It wasn't a question.

"Always." She hadn't died at sea, nor had their son, denying him even that chance to say anything. It was a stupid, tragic thing, but they had fallen, going too fast down the cliffside path as they had rushed to meet him after his ten-year period at sea.

Both had died before his eyes, the son he'd never met losing his footing and the wife he'd missed so desperately trying to catch him… both had died on the harsh stone just before the beach, barely beyond the reach of the terrible power his curse gave him.

So close… and yet so far.

"You have gone before," the other pointed out, breaking through the painful reverie.

"I have," he agreed. "Things have changed."

It was true. Very few died at sea these days and the ships were made of steel and stranger materials. If it hadn't been for the very occasional addition to the dwindling crew, they wouldn't even know what to call this 'fiberglass' and 'plastic'.

The world was so far removed from what it had been when the Captain had first gained his ship that those crew members that had stuck with him through the years and dared, occasionally, to go ashore for supplies were completely baffled by what they found.

Eventually, they decided that only the newest members would even attempt to resupply.

Some of those they picked up--modern-day sailors, even--had never even _heard_ of the _Flying Dutchman_, and most of those who had knew little more than the name. A sparse few knew the legends, including that of Davy Jones, and those tried to explain the origins and got them so twisted by their disbelief in the supernatural that it left the crew trying to decide if they should laugh at the naivety or be horrified for what was lost.

"Even so," 'Bootstrap' Bill Turner looked at his son, concerned. "It used to comfort you."

"That was before the land was covered in black stone and the sea herself began to die."

He had a point. "There are still places where it is free."

Will Turner, Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, rubbed at the scar on his chest as though it pained him. "Not for long. Each time we find such a place, in another ten years, it is gone. I cannot, will not, continue like this. My place is with the _Dutchman_, for however much longer she shall sail."

Even the seas were turning against them, Calypso sending forth wild storms in protest against the abuse she continually received.

There hadn't been a war large enough for sea battles for some time, so most of the souls they ferried these days were victims of her wrath.

Even so, it pained old Bootstrap to see his son so disheartened. As the first ten years had drawn to a close, he had been lively and eager to see his beloved wife again, if only for a day.

Her death had devastated him, only made worse by the addition of the death of his son, though he'd barely known the boy existed. It had taken some time--as in several decades' worth--before he would set foot on land even on his one day.

The first time, it was simply practicality. Like it or not, he had to retrieve his heart. If something were to happen to it… the _Dutchman_ could not be left without a Captain.

But he had enjoyed that brief time, remembered the smell of grass and the taste of wind not heavy with salt, the feel of water not harsh with brine.

If he was unwilling, once more, to set foot on land… The last time, he was grieving a lost wife and child.

This time, he was grieving the loss of a world, it seemed. The loss of an era, a time.

And he still felt guilty for not keeping his promise, not seeing her that one day, though it was no fault of his own.

"Eternity is a long time."

There was silence between them for several minutes.

"Yes," Will went to the helm, seeming to have come to a decision, reaching out with the power he had as Captain of the ship doomed to sail the seven seas for all eternity, taking her under--to the Other Side--only to bring her back up near the same beach he had watched his wife and son die at so long ago, before tapping that same power to appear in the shallows near shore.

He ignored the strange looks he received as he checked the compass Captain Jack Sparrow had given him many years ago, seeking the grave of his wife.

Perhaps it was time to truly say goodbye.

_xxxx_

_One more day  
One more time  
One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied.  
But then again  
I know what it would do  
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you._

_xxxx_

_Not where I initially intended to go, but it's where the story went. I actually intended it to be set just slightly after _At World's End_, before the post-credits scene. The story wandered off on its own, and I was obliged to follow._

_I did _not_ write this the way I write my longer stories, just typed it directly to the more-or-less otherwise no-savey the typed stories computer. This means that I can get around the uploading issue with oneshots, but not multi-chapters. Don't ask, not my computer, I don't make the rules._


End file.
